


the illusion of love and the reality of marriage

by kiyoooooooomi (hoetaku97)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ballroom Dancing, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29102787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoetaku97/pseuds/kiyoooooooomi
Summary: With the help of her brother’s dearest friend, and the servants desperate to retain their posts, Alisa had shed her ball gowns and waist-length hair, becoming the spitting image of her brother. Kuroo taught her all the ways of courtship in their time together, teaching her to walk the walk and talk the talk. They practiced dancing, chivalry, and even romance, all preparing Alisa to find a bride of her own.Or, alternatively,After the disappearance of her brother, Alisa is forced to assume his identity in society to save herself and her mother from ruin.
Relationships: Haiba Alisa/Kageyama Miwa
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	the illusion of love and the reality of marriage

“Sister,” Alisa’s brother had told her once, “marrying for love isn’t realistic. People in our position can’t afford to day dream, so it’s best to pull your head out of the clouds now.”

Lev, who was rarely so serious as he had been in that moment, had been near prophetic about the shattering of Alisa’s youth. Alisa knows her days of dreaming are over as she adjusts her waist coat and steps from the carriage out into the warm summer night air. Alisa Haiba knows the time to put away such childish things as love and dreams has come for her, as it inevitably comes for everyone in time.

It’s been two months since Lev disappeared. They had found his room left untouched, everything still in its rightful place. His clothes hung in the closet, his bedsheets in disarray as they always were before the maids made their rounds, and it had seemed the only thing missing was the man himself. The window was thrown open and the curtains fluttered in the breeze, and Alisa had stood in the doorway rubbing gentle circles into her mother’s back, quietly assuring her he must have just slipped out for the day and would soon return.

He never did, of course.

The house was left in shambles, everyone panicking over the question of  _ what comes next? _ The sole heir gone without a trace, their father long dead, leaving only Alisa and her mother. Two women, so powerless in a society that views them as lesser, left alone without the world outside the estate being any the wiser. It was an easy decision, really. Alisa is tall and lean, eyes large and bright just like her brothers, and had not yet made her official debut in society. Her mother had voiced her objections initially, but after fully coming to terms with their position, eventually yielded. With the help of her brother’s dearest friend, and the servants desperate to retain their posts, Alisa had shed her ball gowns and waist-length hair, becoming the spitting image of her brother. Kuroo taught her all the ways of courtship in their time together, teaching her to walk the walk and talk the talk. They practiced dancing, chivalry, and even romance, all preparing Alisa to find a bride of her own. 

Alisa brushes aside any self doubt, any fear or anxiety. There is no room for doubt left now in her ability to play the part of a gentleman with Kuroo at her side as they pass through the heavy, rickety wooden double doors into the ballroom. If she fails here, tonight, her entire family name will be ruined beyond repair.

“You look great, kid. Just keep your guard up and you’ll be just fine,” Kuroo whispers conspiratorially in her ear, a smirk teasing up one side of his lips.

Together, they saunter around the room to a quiet corner to get a lay of the land. Alisa is uncomfortable in her trousers and the way they restrict her thighs is suffocating, accentuating every curve, and she feels as though everyone must see straight through her. The only gazes tossed her way are of women, assessing and giggling amongst themselves, whispers of Alisa’s feminine beauty and the question of her identity reaching her ears.

“They all seem to be under the impression that you are just a very pretty man,” Kuroo teases, suppressing a chuckle with his fist.

“All the better for me,” Alisa says, gently elbowing him in the side, “but what do i do now?”

“My dear boy, didn’t I teach you anything? You need to ask a lady to dance. It’s rude of us to stand to the side while some ladies are still without a partner. Not to mention,” Kuroo drops his voice low enough for only Alisa to hear, “a certain someone seems to be paying you  _ special _ attention.” Kuroo inclines his head to where Princess Miwa Kageyama stands across the room, dark gaze fixed on Alisa with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, smiling coyly as if  _ daring  _ Alisa to cross the room to her.

Princess Miwa Kageyama is well known for her status and beauty, but perhaps even more notorious for shooting down any hand that is offered to her without consideration. She is in her second season and has thus far rejected at least twelve proposals, from what Alisa has heard in passing. Miwa, the subject of idle gossip, seems as though she couldn’t be bothered to care for the opinion of those beneath the throne. Her younger brother, Tobio Kageyama, stands at her side like a guard dog, teeth bared at Alisa, threatening to bite her hand off should she dare approach his beloved sister. It is common knowledge that the suitors not scared off by Tobio are promptly rejected by Miwa herself, so Alisa hadn’t even taken her into consideration when discussing eligible bachelorettes with Kuroo.

And yet.  _ And yet _ . Alisa can’t pull her eyes away from the lovely visage she cuts in her extravagant light pink gown, cheeks rosy and eyes teasing. Her long dark hair is pinned neatly in a bun on top of her head, a delicate tiara accentuating the hues of the gown. 

Alisa feels her throat run dry at the sight of her and swallows harshly. She takes a step forward before she is even conscious of it.

It doesn’t escape Kuroo’s notice. He gives her a hard slap on the back, making her wince. “Go get ‘em, tiger. Don’t let Tobio take any fingers.”

Alisa crosses the room in long strides, moving between couples as they turn this way and that. She never takes her eyes away from Miwa, she wouldn’t dare. To look away now would be to break whatever spell they are both under.

Suddenly Alisa is standing before Miwa, playing the role of a man on a grand stage, the ballroom at large a grand audience to this spectacle. She bows low and deep before her, taking Miwa’s gloved hand in her own and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as she stares intently into her dark, stormy eyes.

“Lyovochka Haiba, at your service, ma’am. You can call me Lev, if you wish,” Alisa says, intentionally dropping her voice an octave just the way she had practiced, keeping her tone low and smooth.

“Miwa Kageyama. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lev.” Miwa’s slight smile has stretched into a full blown grin as she utters Lev’s name, as though someone has just told her the most hilarious joke.

Tobio, on the other hand, looks downright feral. He looks ready to jump on Alisa at the slightest provocation.

“May I have this dance?” Alisa outstretches her hand palm up to Miwa, the way she had done with Kuroo in the drawing room of her own home, both of them barely suppressing laughter at Kuroo’s impression of a blushing young maiden.

“I’d be delighted.” Miwa reaches out to take her hand but is met by Tobio’s interference instead. He no doubt voices his objections as he whispers to Miwa, despite how rude he appears in that moment. Alisa thinks the boy king has much to learn in the way of manners as she tries to stand tall under his scrutiny. Miwa waves him off with an expression of annoyance, stretching forward to take Alisa’s hand, the movements greedy and impatient. 

Alisa leads her out to the floor, Miwa skirts swishing gently between them as she walks. They come to a halt in the center of the room, all eyes on them as Alisa gingerly places a hand on the curve of Miwa’s waist. Miwa is smiling up at her in a way that is so uncharacteristic of the princess she has long heard tales of, stars in her eyes as she squeezes Alisa’s hand that is clasped in hers. 

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before, Lev Haiba.”

“Perhaps I simply escaped your notice, dear princess. One as lovely as you must surely have many suitors to keep track of.”

“Could they really be considered suitors if they don’t actually suit me at all?” Miwa’s voice is teasing as she follows Alisa’s lead, joining with the throng of couples that twist and turn in time with the music of the orchestra trickling down from the high balcony overlooking the dance floor.

“If that is the case, I can only hope I suit you better.”

“You have much work left to do to catch my eye,” Miwa says, moving imperceptibly closer, “for I am not so easily swayed by a pretty face.”

Alisa dips Miwa low and leans in close, surveying her sharp features up close and personal. “I’m much more than a pretty face, I can assure you that much, my dear.”

Miwa laughs, full and bright as Alisa pulls her upright. “I can only hope I will be allowed to see whatever lies underneath, then.”

“As you wish. You need only stay around long enough to see it.” Alisa twirls Miwa underneath the arc of her long slender arm, reeling her back in and drawing her close.

“I should hope you’d permit me to stay close for awhile.”

“Is that your wish?”

Miwa leans so close their noses nearly brush. “It is. Will you grant it?”

“Naturally, dear princess. It will be as you desire,” Alisa’s voice is breathless and soft, overwhelmed by the electricity held captive in the circle of their arms.

“Then I look forward to seeing you again soon, Lev Haiba.” The dance draws to a close but Miwa doesn’t pull away, instead pulling Alisa closer but the collar of her waistcoat to whisper in her ear. Her cheek brushes against Alisa’s, making her visibly shudder. “A word of caution, my dear girl: do be careful.” Alisa’s eyes widen at the revelation that Miwa knows the truth of her, the truth she had tried desperately to conceal. “Your secret is safe with me, so long as you are sure to call upon me soon,” Miwa’s voice is all teasing, all secretive smiles.

Miwa melts back into the crowd around them, going as easily as she came, leaving a stunned Alisa immobile and speechless in her wake.

**______________________________**

  
  


As Miwa moves back to her brother’s side at the head of the room, she remembers a summer day not so long ago. In her first season, at a party for a dear friend, she had caught a glimpse of fair skin and long, silver hair in her periphery. The shorn hair at her neck tied into a neat ponytail had not been enough to wipe the image of the sweet summer child she had seen so long ago from her mind. Even if everything else faded away, moving beyond her grasp, Miwa was sure that memory of that girl would remain with her forever. It is imprinted on her soul, the way it changed the fabric of her being forever.

Miwa huffs a quiet laugh to herself. Lev Haiba would prove to be very interesting, indeed.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> scream at/with me on twitter @flowerboyomi


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